CHAPTER 003
1129 Words
Terra's POV
My fingers skimmed the screen of my phone, looking, scanning. Delton. The name buzzed in my mind like a mosquito that wouldn't leave. A week had passed since that night—since I did something completely not like me. Something reckless. Something I couldn't shake off, even as I sat here in my living room, pretending that it was all part of the plan.
"Bryan, you don't have anything yet? Just that he owns the bar?" My voice came out sharper than I cared, but I was so far beyond the point of caring to cushion it. Bryan has been useless lately.
He was hunched over his laptop, barely looking up my way. "Still digging, Terra. It's not like I can pull this stuff out of thin air."
I frowned, my anger welling in my chest. Time was running out.
"Alpha celebration's Wednesday," I muttered to myself, rather than to him. "We can't just—"
I stopped cold. Heart thudding.
Alpha celebration.
The words came back at me. I straightened up gradually, my mind slowly putting everything into perspective. Delton was an Alpha. The Alpha night was an event that occurred very seldom in which the mightiest Alphas gathered to celebrate their legacy. He was there. It was the perfect opportunity.
"That's it!" I shot up from the sofa feeling that surge of electricity rushing down my body like I had just won the lottery.
"What?" Bryan's weary eyes looked up from the screen. He was most uninterested in my excitement.
"Delton is an Alpha! He must be there on Alpha night. This is my chance to get close to him."
Bry's face turned dark, but he said nothing. Instead he settled back into his chair, folding his arms. "And what if he doesn't come?" he muttered in a flat voice, all the excitement sucked out of the air.
"Don't be so negative, Bry!" I snapped. "You've been like that for days now."
His eyes locked on mine, cold and distant. "Just be careful, Terra. You're playing with fire. You don't want to get burned."
I opened my mouth to snap back, but held myself. There was something in the way he said it that sent a shiver down my spine. He's been weird since that night. Distant. Reserved. Worried about me, perhaps? Or was there something else?
Bry sat up suddenly, threw his jacket off the bed, and stalked out. The door closed quietly behind him. And there I stayed, standing there in the middle of that room, thinking furiously.
"Later," I whispered into the silence. But my gears had already shifted into high gear.
I had to have a plan. And a dress.
---
Everything about the mall felt too much-people just seemed to spill into my vision as I stepped into the place. I wasn't someone who particularly cared for fashion but this night had to be different for sure. I couldn't just rock up at Alpha night looking like any ordinary Omega.
And so, casually crossing these rows of clothes, I finally saw it—a stunning, seductive pink dress laid at one end of that boutique. It caught my attention.
Just as I took that step forward, something or rather someone halted me in my tracks.
I gasped for my breath. It was Damian.
My Damian.
He stands at the end of the aisle, her hand in his: the new woman, one who'd replaced me. My stomach drops with it; I watch as they laugh and talk, share all that cozy intimacy I thought was ours.
How could he forget me this easily?
I clenched my teeth down into my lip until the metallic taste of blood broke into my mouth. My fingers clenched into fists at my sides as I pushed myself to keep moving, stumbling feet carrying me away from the aftermath. The world went dim around me, the air thick and chokingly oppressive.
I stumbled into the nearest bathroom and locked myself inside a stall. My body shook as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale, my eyes red-rimmed with tears that I wouldn't let fall.
How could he just walk away from us? From me?
Questions consumed my mind, along with the pain of losing him. But even worse was seeing him happy with someone else. Was it because I was an Omega? Because I wasn't good enough? My insecurities dug into me like a knife, twisting deeper with each thought.
But then I remembered something. That night.
The night that I met his father.
I rooted in my purse for my lipstick, fireball red. The great image maker-red lipstick, discreetly scribbled hard across my lips, as if containing any possible needs within me. Sinking my teeth into myself-just maybe, if I applied the lipstick enough, I could produce what was needed. The same lipstick I wore that night. It was a reminder that I wasn't weak. Not anymore. Not after what I did.
I wasn't going to lose Damian without a fight.
---
I came at the sun's setting and knocked at Criselda's door. She opened it, curious.
"Terra?" she said, eyebrows up. "What is it? Why are you wearing make up like that?"
"Do you have a dress I can borrow?" I asked, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Her room was a disaster of clothes scattered all over, evidence of her own getting ready for Alpha night.
She smiled at me, clearly entertained. "You never wear dresses. Or makeup. What's going on?"
I huffed, blowing off her comment. "Does it look good?"
She nodded, still gazing at me. "Yeah, but you're usually more. natural. You sure this is you?"
I provided a small smile. "Tonight's different. I need something. sexy. Something that will turn heads."
Her expression changed and understanding came over her face. "You're going after Damian, aren't you?"
I didn't have to say anything. She already knew. Everyone knew.
Criselda went into her closet and came out dressed in a very sleek black dress, which sparkled like lights. "This one should do the trick," she said, holding it up. "It has just the right touch of sophistication and seduction."
I took it from her hand, running my fingers over the fabric. Perfect!
"You really think you can win him back?" she asked in a soft, almost pitying tone.
I looked up, and toward her. "We didn't break up. He just. got lost. But I'll find him again. I'll make him remember."
She said nothing, but you could have felt her doubt just hanging in the air.
And maybe she was right. Maybe I was being stupid. But something in my head knew, really knew-I had to try. I couldn't let him go without a fight.
- Writer
